


light through the window

by kiroiimye



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Haikyuu Secret Santa 2020, House Painting, Painting, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28359834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiroiimye/pseuds/kiroiimye
Summary: And even now, Yachi still looks like the sun, still is Kiyoko’s personal sunshine, except she can see through the incandescent glow a little easier now. It had only taken her five years to see clearly (and even then, she still quivers on her feet just looking at her girlfriend).Kiyoko and Yachi paint their kitchen the color of sunshine.
Relationships: Shimizu Kiyoko/Yachi Hitoka
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24
Collections: Haikyuu Secret Santa 2020





	light through the window

**Author's Note:**

> merry late christmas to my lovely giftee, Fabs!! im so sorry this is late TT but i hope you enjoy a little kiyoyachi for your holiday <33

The paint is the color of sunshine.

It’s golden, not so harsh as the summer light, but softer, like dappled morning rays through sheer curtains. Wispy and pastel, a metonymy for quiet Sunday mornings that come in a haze of warm coffee and the muffled chirps of the birds outside a closed window.

In stark comparison to the current color of the kitchen, it’s so vividly bright and out of the ordinary that Kiyoko almost changes her mind. 

Keep the current color, she wants to say. It won’t hurt, right?

But her girlfriend’s already rolling up the sleeves of her old and oversized cardigan, looking adorably determined as she pries open their new paint rollers and paintbrushes. Her ponytail — long and pale blonde — swings behind her as her torso coils and expands with the plastic of the brushes. She looks over her shoulder, triumphant with the brush in her hand. 

“Ready to paint, Kiyoko?”

Kiyoko looks at the sterile white walls, then to the golden paint at her feet, and finally to Yachi, who’s smile is just as bright as the paint color.

She’s always been a sucker for that sunshine smile, ever since they were in high school and Yachi’s beaming at her for the first time. She looked like the sun back then, brilliantly vibrant in all the shades of gold and yellow, and Kiyoko had been  _ blinded.  _

Never had she seen anyone burn so beautifully.

And even now, Yachi still looks like the sun, still  _ is  _ Kiyoko’s personal sunshine, except she can see through the incandescent glow a little easier now. It had only taken her five years to see clearly (and even then, she still quivers on her feet just  _ looking  _ at her girlfriend).

“Are you sure we need to paint it?” she blurts. “It looks lovely on its own, right now.”

“Kiyoko.” Yachi’s voice is firm and her mocha eyes bore into hers, much like the hot light of summer, except they’re  _ softer,  _ quiet and steady, and the unease of trying something new evaporates almost instantly when Yachi reaches out to squeeze her hand. “We can  _ do  _ this.”

Kiyoko looks at the golden paint again, and it doesn’t seem as harsh and unnerving anymore. “Okay,” she says. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Yachi grins as she hands her a roller and a can of paint. “Let’s turn this place into sunshine!”

She dips her roller into the paint first, and Kiyoko watches as the snow-white of the kitchen slowly melts into gold. One roll, then two, and then Yachi has a patch of sunlight on the blank canvas of their kitchen walls. She grins back at Kiyoko, ponytail swaying, and it’s utterly  _ striking  _ how sunny she looks, how much she looks like she  _ belongs. _

Two kinds of sun in one room, the world burns a little brighter, and Kiyoko’s heart pounds a little faster as she dips her roller into the paint and runs it across the wall.

A splash of her own golden sunshine in the shape of a rectangle. She can’t help but smile.

There had been nothing to worry about — she had overthought as usual, and Yachi (bright, beaming, sunshine) had grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the light (she’s got the tendency to do that — to bring others into her gravitational orbit and make them feel warm, happy,  _ loved _ ).

“The kitchen looks brighter already!” Yachi chirps on her side of the kitchen. It’s already spruced up in the vivid shade of yellow they picked and with the afternoon sun streaming through their windows, the color practically glows.

It already feels like  _ home. _

(If Kiyoko will be honest, any place where Yachi is, feels like home already. She makes everything better, brighter, and cozier with her sweet, unendingly kind presence, and Kiyoko is so damn  _ lucky.) _

“Yeah, it does,” she hums. “It’s a lovely color, Hitoka.”

“Right?” Yachi looks like sunlight again, fitting right into the brilliance of the afternoon and the glow of their kitchen. “I’m really glad we decided to paint the kitchen. It feels fitting, you know? Like we belong more here.”

Kiyoko smiles softly at her girlfriend, warmth bubbling in the pit of her stomach. “Yeah. It feels more like home.”

(Everywhere feels like home when she’s with Hitoka.)

“I’m glad,” Yachi confesses, and her voice is tinged with a hint of uncertainty that Kiyoko recognizes from their high school years. “I was nervous, you know? When we first decided to move in together, that we couldn’t make it work and that it wouldn’t feel like a home.”

Kiyoko understands — she felt the same way. What if Yachi hated living with her? What if their personalities clashed? What if they break up because they decided to live together and hated it?

But she was willing to try for her girlfriend, and they got a place together when Kiyoko graduated university and Yachi was in her second year. It was difficult, the first month, trying to create a new routine around a second person nearby. But they learned, they adapted, and now, seven months into living together, they’re painting their kitchen and Kiyoko’s still so in love with Yachi.

“And then we just  _ did  _ it and we worked it out, and I’m just really, really happy we moved in together.” Yachi looks so unbelievably adorable — eyes large and shining and absolutely radiant and smile so wide — that Kiyoko can’t help but cross over to her girlfriend’s side of the kitchen and grasp her hands.

They’re smaller than hers, delicate and soft, and stained with yellow paint. She can feel the coolness of the damp sunlight paint against her skin, and wonders if she’ll be colored with it too (and if she is, she doesn’t mind — the thought of Yachi bringing her color in another way is warming and heart-racing and she wants to let her make her life as golden as the sun rays in the sky).

“I’m happy to be with you,” she tells her, and the way Yachi’s smile stretches across her face sends butterflies careening into her throat. “You make everywhere feel like home, Hitoka, and I’m forever grateful for you.”

Yachi squeezes her hands and goes on her tiptoes to press a sweet kiss to her lips. “You make every day feel like sunshine, Kiyoko. Thanks for making my world a little brighter.”

Kiyoko smiles against her girlfriend’s lips as she dips down for another kiss, and the world spins a little faster.


End file.
